


Velocity

by Timballisto



Series: clarke and lexa vs the world [3]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/F, NSFW, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-20
Updated: 2015-02-20
Packaged: 2018-03-13 22:22:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3398363
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Timballisto/pseuds/Timballisto
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lexa is a slow moving force of nature and Clarke doesn't mind.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Velocity

**Author's Note:**

> Clexa smut, because both of them are going to fucking live and have life affirming war tent sex. okay? okay. NSFW obviously.

For the first time in weeks, the war tent is dim and deserted. 

Outside, almost on the other side of camp, Skypeople and Grounders alike feast and drink in the light of the huge bonfire erected in honor of their victory over Mt. Weather. The air is heavy with woodsmoke- and Clarke can smell it best against Lexa’s skin.

In the dark of the tent, Lexa’s fingers are as insistent on Clarke’s belt buckle as her mouth is against Clarke’s own. At night, she supposes, where no one can see the commander’s indiscretions, there is no such thing as weakness.

They stumble backwards, and Clarke lets out a hiss into Lexa’s mouth when the small of her back hit the edge of the war table, one of her hands slipping from where it had been tangled in Lexa’s shirt to steady herself against it.

Lexa pulled back, her eyes bright against the black kohl across her eyes. But Clarke doesn’t want to talk- for _once_ she doesn’t want to have to think about the consequences of something that could just fucking _be_ -

And maybe Lexa can see that in her eyes, can read her in that infuriating way that no one else can, because whatever Lexa was going to say died in her throat. Instead, she bends down to kiss Clarke again, her fingers drifting along the sliver of skin visible along the blonde’s hips, bared by the weight of her slack belt.

"Come on." Clarke groaned, jerking her head back to glare at Lexa, who didn’t even bother to look contrite. "I need you to- just- _fuck_ -“

"Are all Skypeople this impatient?" Lexa asked, her voice rougher than Clarke had ever heard it.

” _Yes_.” Clarke hissed, toeing out of her boots as fast as she could while tugging on the hem of Lexa’s shirt, giving Lexa an almost disgusted once over at her fully clothed state. “Especially when Grounders are so _slow_.”

"I can show you slow, if you wish." Lexa said, reaching out, wrapping her arms around Clarke in a way that was very uncharacteristic but not entirely unwelcome-

And then Lexa let go and she was sitting on the war table, her pants and boots in a pile below her dangling feet.

Lexa bent to press her mouth to a scar on the top of Clarke’s knee, and it wasn’t Clarke’s fault if she let out a whimper, that skin was _sensitive_.

"If you make me wait, I will kill you.” Clarke said, short of breath and voice high.

"Promises, Skyprincess." Lexa murmured, sliding her lips further up Clarke’s thigh. At this point, with enough threats of murder between them, they might have enough for an actual relationship. "None shall miss us until tomorrow evening."

"All the more reason to get a head sta- _ah_!” Clarke’s back arched, her heels digging into Lexa’s shoulder blades when Lexa’s mouth finally, _finally_ found it’s mark. “F- _fuck_.”

Because Lexa’s mouth is humming against her, soft and insistent and- god, she’s so fucking wet. And when Lexa has her dangling over the edge, brought there by skillful hands and mouth, keening for release and heaving for air-

No.

It’s Lexa looking up at her from between her thighs, her mouth slick and smeared, her eyes hopeful and bright and- and-

It’s the imperfection of it. Of the white scar not quite hidden by Lexa’s eyebrow. The bead of sweat tracking through the dust on her temple. The kohl smeared along the inside of Clake’s thighs.

It looks like a new beginning, and Clarke tenses, and gives herself over to it.


End file.
